Chapter Twenty-Seven
Emery
Ihover over the piano, desperately wanting to play it, but I’m still so freaking mad, and sitting on that bench feels like I’m giving in. Like I’m accepting his extravagant gift.
“Play it, Em.” Uma comes up behind me. “You’ve been staring at it for the last twenty-four hours like it’s the physical embodiment of Zayn Becker.”
“If that was the case, it’d be lying in smithereens on the floor.”
“Maybe you should unblock him and tell him you’ll meet him after all. Wait with a baseball bat and take it out on his stupidly pretty face.”
My lips twitch in the first sign of humor since Zayn accosted me in the parking lot last night.
“I don’t need to unblock him,” I mutter. “He’s already messaged me from a different number.”
“Wow, he’s determined.”
“I don’t care. I just need him to stay the fuck away. All he’s doing by hiding in alleyways and sending me texts is giving me ammo to report him for stalking.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” she quietly says, leaning against the side of the piano.
“Watch me,” I snap before adding, “Sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you. I barely got any sleep, and it’ll be a miracle if I don’t slump over the piano when I get to the restaurant.”
“You have a couple hours before your shift starts. Take a nap, then get up and play your piano.”
“It’s not mine. It’s his.”
“He bought it for you.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“No, but if you talk to him, you can confirm it.”
I whip my head around to my bestie. “Now it sounds like you’re on his side.”
“I’m always Team Emery. To the day I die.” She slaps a hand across her chest. “But I’m watching you go crazy these past twenty-four hours, and I think you need to talk to him, babe. Listen to what he has to say. Maybe he was telling you the truth. Maybe the piano and the groceries and the flowers are his way of trying to make it up to you.”
“He’s too late,” I hiss. “I hate him.”
“Ookay.”
“Stop that! I do. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. Nothing he has to say will ever make what he did to me okay.”
She holds up her hands. “Whatever you say, Em. I’m just trying to help.”
“I’m coming with you to the party tonight,” I supply, making the decision spur of the moment. “And I’m going to say yes to Joaquin.”
A grimace pulls across her face.
“You have an issue with that now? You’ve been begging me all week to give it a go with him so we can double date.”
“I do want that, but only if you genuinely want it too. Don’t use Joaquin to distract yourself from Zayn because that wouldn’t be fair to him.”
“Ugh.” I sit on the edge of the piano bench and rest my head in my hands. “You’re right.” I lift my head. “I like J, and I might have made that decision in time, but I don’t want to drag him into this mess. It seems like Zayn isn’t going to go away.”
“You sure know how to pick ’em, and you definitely have a type.”
“Unfortunately,” I grumble.
